


je t'aime encore

by reylofics



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017), Call Me By Your Name - All Media Types
Genre: First Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-04-07 15:01:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14083503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reylofics/pseuds/reylofics
Summary: elio reflects on his first love.





	je t'aime encore

**Author's Note:**

> i’ve been gone for so long, and haven’t written in forever. but watching this film for the first time brought tears to my eyes, especially in the second half of the film. the film and book are so beautifully portrayed that i am confident that i will never give them the justice they deserve—but i can try. “call me by your name” was one of the best films that i’ve ever seen and i can only hope but try to reflect my love and adoration for this art with my writing. <3 xx

“Elio.”

There is nothing but white noise, a deafening silence on the other end of the call.

He tries again with his own name. “Elio, Elio, Elio,” he whispers into the larger end of the phone, holding it so closely to his mouth like he’s afraid that it’ll break if he lets go. The words trail off his lips while he waits patiently for a response. His mind is wild with emotions, his heart tangled with an abundance of painful love. 

“Oliver,” comes the response that he was hoping for. Elio smiles to himself, the taste of his own name still on his lips.

“I remember everything and I don’t regret any of it,” says Oliver. It almost seems as if he is about to say more, but then the line quietly clicks and falls dead. Now, there is nothing but white noise going through either end of the phone, and Elio’s heart shatters into a million scattered pieces. He doesn’t care anymore and recklessly drops the phone back to its original setting on the mantelpiece. He stands in the shadowy corner of the room, not moving from the shadows for quite some time, still trying to process the conversation. Oliver’s voice is both a blessing and curse to him. Slowly, Elio wanders off to the fireplace, crackling and burning with forgotten memories of Elio and Oliver and Oliver and Elio. The pieces of his broken heart are burning and breaking under the warmth of the embers that have been stuffed underneath the burnt logs. Emotionless, he perches himself on the edge of the fireplace, feeling the warmth of the fire illuminate his darkened spirits. The logs that are encased in the orange flames of the fire seem to cry out silently in pain, mimicking Elio, who sits quietly teary-eyed by the fire. The burning flames seem to contradict his wet eyes as he recalls the beauty and pain that is Oliver.

Memories of ElioandOliver and OliverandElio enter at the mouth of his mind, tears now flooding the brim of his eyes and cascading down his cheeks like a waterfall. Oliver’s face, body, and touch are everywhere that he turns to. Elio can barely stand to look at, let alone visit, “his place”. The quiet meadow of wonders is no longer Elio’s—it is Elio and Oliver’s. Elio still remembers the first time that Oliver kissed him in the grassy meadow. He remembers the way that Oliver had brushed his curls out of his face and the way that Oliver had stared at him with such a loving face as Elio hitched a sudden breath in anticipation. It was like he not only knew of the kiss that was to come but the love that would also soon overtake him with a force so great that he would never forget it. He remembers the way that Oliver leaned in and pressed his lips upon his, making him melt with every touch. He remembers how, every day after that, he fell more and more in love with him. As Elio stares at the fire in front of him, Oliver’s lingering touch burns his body with sadness and regretful happiness. His heart hurts with such a torn passion that it can only be described as the falling apart of a broken soul after being loved. 

Oliver had been the only one to sincerely break down Elio’s walls, only to be the one who put them back up again after leaving. Ever since Oliver left, Elio has done everything that he can to pretend that everything is fine. He pretends that he is fine without Oliver though he knows that he isn’t fooling anyone—least of all, himself. Sitting alone in front of the fireplace, Elio can do nothing but cry as he yearns to talk to Oliver like they did in the summer, just once more. He feels bittersweet, thinking about Oliver’s fiancé, hopelessly wishing that they might call it off and Oliver will come back running to him. He longs to feel Oliver touch him again, but this thought is quickly erased as he brings himself back to reality. In a happier time, Oliver’s touch had excited Elio so much that he spent days on end thinking about him and when their bodies would meet again. Oliver’s empty touch now feels like a knife twisting mercilessly in Elio’s heart, pulling and tearing him apart with every cut and slice. Elio doesn’t know much more sorrow he can take, with every single recurring memory of Oliver that keeps creeping up in the back of his mind. No matter how hard he tries in his solitude, his first love keeps entering his stricken thoughts. Their love enters his mind in a happy but sorrow string of events, causing his waterfall of tears to lump into a pool beside the pile of burning ashes.

ElioandOliver kissing, OliverandElio sneaking up into his room at midnight to share a physical form of love that he had never shared so intimately before with anyone else—these cruel, but infinitely happy thoughts overtake Elio’s heart, until he is wrought with broken misery, painfully reflecting on the pure adoration he had for Oliver and Oliver alone.

With Oliver, Elio felt like an angel in heaven. His state of pure happiness carried him up into the clouds, his feet refusing to touch the ground. Oliver was Elio’s drug and as much as he wanted to quit him, he couldn’t. The second that Oliver had set foot on that train and left Elio back on the ground, instead of high up in the clouds, Elio had tried to leave Oliver behind, too. Then he had called Elio and Elio fell for him all over again. He wanted to say that he loved him, but it would’ve been too hard. Calling him and hearing his voice was hard enough. After all they had been through, everything had changed, but they still weren’t ready to let go of each other.

That was why they couldn’t say goodbye. So instead, they called each other by their names, as a farewell to each other and the blissful, loving summer that would never be forgotten by either one of them.

Looking straight into the eyes of the fire, Elio starts to feel his tears receding, becoming replaced with a small smile as he remembers all the wonderous parts of loving Oliver and having Oliver love Elio. Elio would never forget ElioandOliver and OliverandElio in the years to follow. He could never forget Oliver or the way that they so passionately loved each other. His heart is still broken into a million pieces, but he is starting to put the pieces back together.

**Author's Note:**

> p.s., if you made it this far—the title means “i still love you” in french.
> 
> update: this story was originally published on march 24th, 2018 but it has been revised and edited since then.


End file.
